<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>pistol grips / forged in awful fire by verulams (finnlogan)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23683936">pistol grips / forged in awful fire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/finnlogan/pseuds/verulams'>verulams (finnlogan)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>2015 yognonsense [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Yogscast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Mob, Gen, Guns, Stealing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:33:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,011</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23683936</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/finnlogan/pseuds/verulams</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>UNFINISHED SNIPPET from 2015</p>
<p>**</p>
<p>One day, Xephos runs off from his lab clutching a stack of papers, and drops one. He turns back as soon as it's gone, but it's covered in thick black ink, and easy to read- “Debts; Unclaimed, month beginning, June,” dressed with a list of names.<br/>A list of names he recognises. </p>
<p>Hat Films (written as one entity, for reasons not entirely beyond Lalna), Nanosounds, Ridgedog (that name has underlining and several strikethroughs- as if he's paid and not quite escaped Xephos's grasp, perhaps?), Strippin, Ravs, Parv… There are Doctors on the list, decorated with extra letters and long foreign names.</p>
<p>There's a brief moment when Xephos catches Lalna's eye, and it feels like a budget video game- choose your poison and whatever, who to ask about- decide wisely or get the 'Bad End'.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lalna &amp; Nano, Xephos &amp; Honeydew</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>2015 yognonsense [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1705456</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>pistol grips / forged in awful fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>please i am begging you don't look at me</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The paper reads:</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Honeydew: short- underestimated and hench as hell. Investments in mining</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Xephos: Somehow the brains behind this whole operation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lalna: Smarts for hire.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nano: <em>Gun</em> for hire.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Strife: ???</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Xephos squints at the page again. Strife. It still, stubbornly, tells him absolutely nothing about how much Sjipsco knew about the whole operation, and it says even less about Ridge. It still, stubbornly, doesn’t mention Ridgedog. He sighs and puts the paper down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>They make a living out of other people's living. That's the best way to put it, because sure as hell it's not easy to put nicely- they've robbed more rich and middle-class homes than anyone else in the city, and there's an awful lot of shady people hangin' around to compete with. Honeydew's a good pay-cheque as it goes, able to pay him at the end of the week, and Xephos is an excellent actual boss. It's a joint venture, as far as he knows, but what Lalna does know for sure is that it's Honeydew's name on the cash flow and Xephos's print in the organisation. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Honeydew's hands are in the money, somehow, justified as an ancient mining venture underneath a place called 'Khaz Modan' (Lalna's never seen the place on any map), and Xephos... Xephos lives on the black market and 'I'm a foreigner, I didn't understand'. The man's been in the police eye for over five years. Somehow it still works, and Lalna almost wanted to know </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span>, before he saw the mountains of paperwork in his office- he's pretty content to just get by now, the urge to investigate a pile of papers taller than he was thoroughly quenched. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As long as it works, right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>(It really, really works.)</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>One day, Xephos runs off from his lab clutching a stack of papers, and drops one. He turns back as soon as it's gone, but it's covered in thick black ink, and easy to read- “Debts; Unclaimed, month beginning, June,” dressed with a list of names.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>A list of names he recognises. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Sips, Sjin, Turps, Hat Films (written as one entity, for reasons not entirely beyond Lalna), Nanosounds, Ridgedog (that name has underlining and several strikethroughs- as if he's paid and not quite escaped Xephos's grasp, perhaps?), Strippin, Ravs, Nilesy, Lomadia, Parv… There are Doctors on the list, decorated with extra letters and long foreign names.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>There's a brief moment when Xephos catches Lalna's eye, and it feels like a budget video game- choose your poison and whatever, who to ask about- decide wisely or get the 'Bad End'.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Who the hell had control over Ridgedog?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span> (Man was like fucking Rasputin, sleeping around and healing with nobles and the rich, and amassing cults all over the place, absolutely no finesse, but all about raw power and trying again until it worked.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Ridgedog? Still?” He wishes he could swallow the words as soon as he says them. A bit of a ballsy thing to ask, even for him</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Xephos smiles and laughs, waving a hand. “His lifestyle is difficult to maintain, I'm sure you know. The thing is, this month he tried his luck with an... outside investor.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lalna squints at him, questioning, and Xephos answers the unspoken question with a laugh and a foot-tap on the hardy floor-boards. “Didn't bother to remember their name. I'm a busy man, Lalna, y'know? Things to do, people to see! People to... ah, organise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He smiles widely. Honestly, It's a wonder he sticks with any of them. Xephos could control everyone if he tried hard enough, Lalna's almost certain- except-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Xephos-” He'd been leaving again, long legs with booted feet taking him almost to the stairwell in a few steps. “How's.. How's, er, Strife, these days?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Strife was the issue, recently. A powerhouse for most kinds of production, Xephos had sent along Parvis in an attempt to be more fully ingrained in the damn place and then found that he'd lost his foothold in debiting the man. It had been a disastrous miscalculation, and Xephos'd been in a foul mood for a week-  he drank curses with his sharp liquor, and Lalna would know because he'd been the one to serve it. </span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah. Yes." Xephos' posture rests tremulously on one leg, buzzing with energy. "Look, Lalna, I have a job to do, and I'm not going to waste time I could be using to actually do it. But for what it's worth," he squints a little, and smiles. "I'm pretty sure Mr. Strife won't be a problem much longer." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And that's that. Xephos is off like a shot, and Lalna has to return to the lab with the strange premonition that it was all going to be a lot more difficult than Xephos thought. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lalna has Nano with him, striding through corridors and disabling cameras as they go. Lalna's good with tech, she's nimble and tiny, and they could both wield a sub-machine gun. Everybody's happy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Except for the person whose business they're robbing. They probably aren't too happy right now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Steps fall easily, an old routine in a new building. Lalna has memorised the layouts of the building three times over, and it's almost surreal as they walk through the corridors because Nano- at under five foot- is currently the hired brawn. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>People break round the corners of rooms but she makes quick work of them, gunshots thudding around him. He's busy, after all, fiddling with the terminal lodged in the plastic casing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"We ready?" She asks, tilting her gun onto her shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He smirks at her: "What kind of a question is that?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They're always ready. To be honest, that was kind of the job in a nutshell. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She scowls and sticks her tongue out, deftly stepping over a body at least 3 times her girth.  “I think it was a good question, personally. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> not always ready, are you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He scowls right back at her. “No,” he mutters, “But </span>
  <em>
    <span>we</span>
  </em>
  <span> always are.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And that’s true. With the whole operation under control, they were always ready.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was just that things weren’t going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>stay</span>
  </em>
  <span> like that.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You can find me, if you really want to after that whole thing, at finnlogan or verulamfic on Tumblr.</p>
<p>You are also allowed to send me an outraged message asking why I'm uploading old yogscast fic in 2020, but the only response I can give you is that I don't know and that I needed it out of my drafts folder.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>